


Compensating?

by Klainesflirtyduets



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Darillium, F/M, Fluff ensues, also dick jokes, river being a saint, twelve being an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:11:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klainesflirtyduets/pseuds/Klainesflirtyduets
Summary: In which River wants to sleep but her husband's sulking is so loud she can't ignore it anymore. “Care to elaborate what’s wrong?” she asks, sliding on the mattress in attempt to get closer. The Doctor doesn’t even blink at that, still focused on not glowering at all.“No. Because there’s nothing to say. Everything’s fine. I’m fine. So fine I could call myself Doctor Fine.”“Ah, I see.” River quips back, sarcasm heavy in her tone; “That’s why you’re totally not sulking.”“Exactly.”





	

River has met her husband in nearly all of his incarnations. She’s met him when he was boring and traveled with teachers; she’s met him when he wore celery, when he was a forgetful philosopher and when he wore a scarf that was longer than his life; she’s met him when he had giant ears, a bad temper and a deep passion for bow ties. She’s learned all his bodies and the different personalities they were matched with and had the chance to actually, properly understand that no matter the face he wears, underneath it all he’s always the same man – with an atrocious fashion sense, an absolute helplessness in front of a crying child, a tendency to carry the weight of the Universe on his shoulders and a sometimes annoying, sometimes endearing incapability to keep his mouth shut for more than two seconds unless there’s something bothering him.

By this last information alone, one would think there are some dark thoughts going on in that giant head of his right now, considering that he hasn’t spoken a word to her since they escaped from Liz I’s bedchamber about two hours ago and ended their four weeks-long date to return on Darillium.But River’s been married to this melodramatic idiot for more than a century now and has been living for enough time with this current regeneration to have acquired the ability to just _sense_ how his mood shifts. If generally she can guess what makes him act a certain way, right about now River has literally no idea why he’s sulking and avoiding any contact with her by lying stiffly on the farthest extreme of their bed. 

To be honest, she wanted to ask him earlier, when they got into bed, but he cut her off by killing the lights and saying his goodnights, making clear he wasn’t going to let her in or any closer physically. Which wasn’t something she’d be normally stung by, because she’s known this him long enough to know that sometimes he can get grumpier than usual and quite tetchy and uncomfortable with touch - rarely with her, and mostly when he’s feeling guilty about something she never asks about, but still, she respects the needs and the boundaries of each regeneration of her husband as he respects her own. So she had just hugged her second pillow to her chest, snuggled even more under the blankets and got ready to catch forty winks. 

Except that the amount of winks caught in the last two hours is nonexistent, because her bloody husband is moping so intensely it’s making her nervous and restless. And she’s _exhausted_ and still buzzing with adrenaline since they haven’t got it out of their systems with some conjugal activities and it would be so _satisfying_ to finally strangle him and stop him from brooding so bloody _loudly_. Which is ridiculous, because he’s not even saying a word but his silences can be as unnerving as his eleventh’s self chattering and right now it’s like he’s _screaming_ his bad mood at her and it’s frustrating because she can’t sleep with all the negative energy he’s emanating. It’s like she can _hear_ the clogs of his brain working furiously and she feels herself tending towards the _bespoke killer_ side of their relationship scale rather than the _bespoke wife_ one, which is something that hasn’t happened since Berlin. 

Christ, can’t he just go moping elsewhere? It’s not like there isn’t space in the Tardis. And honestly, she doesn’t understandwhy he’s being so annoying and calling for attention if he doesn’t want her to ask. Unless River’s got it all wrong and he’s being childish and that’s what he secretly wants her to do. 

With a sigh, her intention of actively and intensely ignoring him flies out of the Tardis door. If she’s going to kick him out, at least she wants to know why. “Doctor?” 

She gets no answer. Of course, he’s so deep in his thoughts he can’t hear her. River hates it when that happens. 

Extending her leg backwards, she nudges him in his left leg under the blankets. “ _Doctor_.” 

“Ow! Kicking in your sleep again now?” River hears him mutter under his breath, which proves once again he was completely shutting her out. 

“I’m not sleeping.” She informs him, not without a touch of annoyance in her tone. 

“Thought you were. Why aren’t you?” he asks and oh, at least he’s trying to be decent alien. 

“Not that I’m not trying to, but you’re frowning.” River says, deciding to turn her abat-jour on and roll over to face him. Thanks to her bedside lamp she can see him: he’s sitting with his back against the pillows, arms stubbornly crossed against his chest and by the faint outline of his brows, he’s glowering a hole into the nothingness before his eyes as if he’s trying to create a black hole with the sheer force of his annoyance. “I told you it’s audible. ”

To her utter stupor, his scowl deepens even more, which is something she didn’t think could physically happen. “I’m not.”

River sighs, already feeling drained, and silently curses herself for falling for the single most difficult man in the whole Universe and for being completely hopeless when it comes to him and his wellbeing, even when he’s being particularly thick and annoying. 

“Care to elaborate what’s wrong?” she asks, sliding on the mattress in attempt to get closer. The Doctor doesn’t even blink at that, still focused on _not_ glowering at all. 

“No. Because there’s nothing to say. Everything’s fine. I’m fine. So fine I could call myself _Doctor Fine_.” He growls gruffly. 

“Ah, I see.” River quips back, sarcasm heavy in her tone; “That’s why you’re totally not sulking.”

“Exactly.”

“You do realize how ridiculous you’re being right now, don’t you?” River says, but she doesn’t get an answer from him and for the first time she considers the idea of him being somehow mad at her for something she hasn’t realized yet. She quickly thinks back over the last hours passed running around creating and solving havoc, but nothing potentially capable of offending him comes to her mind. “Sweetie, have I done something wrong? Are you mad at me?”

That finally seems to get a reaction out of him. He turns to look at her for the first time, but nothing in his expression has changed much. If anything, he looks a tiny bit perplexed too, which at least easies her worry.“Don’t be daft, woman. Why would I be mad at you?” 

River sits up and crosses her arms against her chest. “You tell me.” 

The Doctor sighs, lowering his gaze. “It has nothing to do with you, don’t worry.” 

And there it is, the slip she was waiting for. 

“Ha! So there _is_ something bothering you!” she exclaims excitedly, even if it gets her one of his most impressive death glares. But instead of scaring her, it just makes her giddy. There’s nothing she enjoys more than fooling this unflappable version of him, especially because he hates it – and right now it’s the sweetest revenge she can get. “So, what is it?” 

Instead of answering her question, her husband decides once more to act like the overgrown child that he is and starts glaring aimlessly in front of him again. “River, go back to sleep.” He barks, unnecessarily rude, and River decides she’s officially had enough of all this situation.

“Fine.” She grumbles, hastily lying down again with her back turned on him and hugging her extra pillow to her chest. “But you and your nothing may spend the rest of the night out of here. Keep brooding all you want, but do it where you can’t keep me awake.”

A few seconds of silence – dead _silent_ silence – go by before she hears the sound of the covers being ruffled and feels the mattress lower; River thinks he’s actually getting out of their bed, but then his lanky arms are slipping around her under the blankets and his nose starts nuzzling her cheek. And damn him, it’s so nice having his body so close to hers again and it’s melting her annoyance so quickly it’s pitiful. 

“I’m acting like a prick.” 

River relaxes against him. “You are.” 

“I’m stopping now. You can sleep, I won’t bother you again.” 

“Sweetie.” She sighs, briefly disentangling from him to roll over and face him. His arms are quickly around her again, dragging her close so she can rest her chin on his chest. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” 

He looks away from her curious gaze, brows furrowing once again. He honestly looks like an embarrassed child and, River realizes suddenly, this is probably why he’s being this ridiculously difficult. He’s _embarrassed_ for god knows what, the idiot, and was letting her worry for _nothing_. She honestly wants to hit him for that, but then she notices something that makes her grin impossibly wide.

“Are you _blushing_?” she exclaims, pushing herself up with her arms so she can get a closer look at his face and his slightly reddening cheeks. “ _You are!”_

“Shut up, you insufferable woman.” He grumbles under his breath, facing away from her gaze, and River can’t help but chuckle. This is actually precious. It’s the first time she’s seen him like this and oh, who would have thought this old Scottish owl could be so _adorable?_ But this is evidently making him uncomfortable and that’s not really going to encourage him to spill the beans, so she puts a soothing hand on his face in a vain attempt to get him to look at her. 

“Sweetie, I won’t mock you, I promise.” 

He arches an eyebrow and glowers at her sideways. “You’re laughing already.” 

River rolls her eyes. “That’s because you’re being ridiculous.” 

“I’m not.” he grumbles, glaring at her for the umpteenth time. But honestly, he’s done it so many times River’s basically immune to his attack eyebrows and she easily hold his gaze, arching her own eyebrow. “You’re making such a fuss over this! Honestly Sweetie, I thought that after killing you _twice_ we’d reached the maximum level of intimacy and openness.”

“Ah, what’s more intimate than death?” he says sarcastically, but there’s the tiniest smirk blossoming on his lips.

River winks. “Exactly. Besides, you owe this to me. You had me both worried _and_ murderous and I was going to insult you right into your next regeneration.” 

This time, the Doctor actually snorts. “You can’t blame me for _your_ bad temper, dear.” 

“I blame your sulking, honey.” She volleys back, pointedly poking his chest with her finger. “Now spill!” 

He sighs tiredly and River has to refrain from squealing at his surrender."I can’t believe you’re making me tell you this.” 

“If you’d let me sleep you wouldn’t find yourself in this situation in the first place.” She says, watching him expectantly. She has to admit her curiosity is rising to its higher levels at this point. 

The Doctor runs his hand through his grey locks and breathes out. “I told you already how past me managed to save Gallifrey and solve a Zygon crisis with his previous selves, right?”  
River nods carefully, frowning a little because she's not sure where this is going; "Your eleventh regeneration with your tenth and war selves, yes." 

"Exactly.” He agrees, “When Chinny found Sandshoes, he was with Elizabeth I – and a Zygon that looked like her, which he may have kissed-" 

As she hears this, River can’t help but burst out laughing. She knew already about his fling and his wedding with Liz, of course, but _this_ specific anecdote is new and if it isn’t such a Doctor thing to do. "Oh, I'm so glad I've never met and snogged your tenth self, Sweetie." 

One of his brows lifts warningly. "Careful..." 

"I said I wouldn't mock _this_ you, Doctor, not your pasts" she justifies herself as her laughter dies down. "And you can't really blame me for finding this hilarious, honestly." 

He seems to see the reason behind her words and sighs. "I guess so. Chinny had his fair chance to mock Sandshoes for that, too."

River stills suddenly, an idea blooming in her head. "Wait, is this why you were all grumpy? You were embarrassed because you remembered kissing a big red rubbery thing covered in suckers?" 

"Says the one who marries Cyborgs." 

"For the umpteenth time, I married _the diamond_." 

"So you say." 

River rolls her eyes and sighs, deciding to leave it be. "Anyway, you've not answered me."

There is a pause and that’s what it takes her to realize that no, he wasn’t sulking for kissing a Zygon, but he was certainly considering letting her believe it, the bastard. River schools her face in a warning expression, daring him to lie so shamelessly to her face and that seems to convince him to avoid rule one for once.  
"It's not that.” He says, in fact; “It's something Sandshoes said that made me think." 

"What did he say exactly?" 

The blush from before comes back in full force and River has to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from grinning like a loon.  
'He asked me if my screwdriver was big like that to...compensate other parts since, you know, regeneration is a lottery." he mumbles, avoiding her gaze at all costs and staring intently at the wall before his eyes, brows furrowed and cheeks bright pink.

River, from her part, is probably gaping at him like a dead fish, utterly incredulous. Was he really moping around like an angry mosquito until now just because his younger self made a _joke_? And what were he and his younger selves, thirteen-year-olds that felt the need to prove themselves by taking out their dicks to compare them? 

"Are you _serious_?" He doesn't answer and keeps staring a hole into the nothingness he's facing. River shakes her head. "It was just a stupid joke, Doctor. I can't believe you're still thinking about it."

"It's not _that_ per se." he mutters, glowering and blushing furiously. 

"Then what is it? Because I'm finding this situation quite ridiculous, especially considering you know for a fact that there was nothing to worry about." 

That makes him finally snap. "Except that I _have_ changed since then, haven't I?" He barks, turning to look at her abruptly, red with embarrassment and annoyance. River blinks a few times as she connects the dots. 

Before meeting Liz again and remembering that specific episode he didn't seem too worried about his form, but apparently it just took a past joke from his younger self to render him suddenly self-conscious in the body department.  
Which he really needn't be. He is older, yes, much more like he used to look in his firsts regenerations, but he is dashing in his own way. He has a sharper face, a lankier figure and silvery hair to match and to her, it just feels like he's more attuned to her in a superficial, physical way, just because there doesn't seem to be much of an age gap. But he must know his appearance doesn't really matter to her - she'd told him so many times before that's his hearts and mind she's in love with. His body is merely an accessory \- an accessory she likes and enjoys and she has favorites, of course she has, she's only human and she likes pretty things, after all; but she has loved and loves each and every face he's worn, and honestly, she'd love him even if he grew _suckers_. And if he's worried about his proficiency in conjugal matters, he's just even more of an idiot because she’s never complained and if she had to say something, there would be _nothing_ but praises from her, for both his body and his stamina.  
But River would be lying if she said that this whole confession isn't incredibly amusing to her. He's always acting like this kind of things, so very little and so very trivial, don't affect him, but right about now he's being so very _human_ and it's endearing and heartwarming because he's opening up to her - with a little pressure, indeed, but he _is_ \- and River wants to bask in the simplicity and rightfulness of it all, because with his eleventh self it wasn't so easy or common and she’d miss it.  
Feeling suddenly full of tenderness, she moves to straddle his thighs. She rests both her hands on his cheeks and leans in to place the softest kiss on his thin lips. "Yes, you have." she breathes out, answering his previous provocation, looking him intently in the eye. "And _what_ a surprise."  
His serious frown seems to soften into a confused expression and within those clear old eyes she can see the tiniest trace of awe.  
"A good one?"  
"An _excellent_ one." she confesses, softly scraping her nails on the back of his head, twirling her fingers in the soft silvery locks there. "Your tenth self has nothing on you. Nor your eleventh self, for the matter."  
He grins hopefully. "So you like me even though I don't look young and dashing like pudding brain Raymond?"

"Ramone.” River corrects out of habit, even though she knows he’s doing it on purpose; “And you _are_ dashing, my love." She continues, “When you don’t sulk like a bloody child.”

His proud face falls into a glare in an second, but there’s no real heat behind it, she knows. His wounded ego is fine again thanks to her intervention and River’s pretty sure he’ll keep secretly gloating like a cock for awhile. 

Now that she thinks about it, maybe it was better leaving him all depressed. He could be pretty insufferable when confident, in his last body.  
"Well, then." She says eventually, patting his face affectionately. "Now that the brooding is over and the size of your ego’s been reestablished-“ River attempts to get off of him, but suddenly she finds herself lying on her back with her husband pinning her down against the mattress and looking at her with a sly smirk on his face.

"Now, what do you think you’re doing, doctor Song?” River bites her bottom lip to keep from grinning back and acts purposely dumb. “Sleeping?” she says, brushing her fingertips on the warm skin of his arm. “You’ve kept me awake for hours.” 

He wiggles his thick brows suggestively. “What about I keep you awake for some more? Just so you can appreciate my dashingness more _thoroughly_.” 

River gives a generous belly laugh and kisses him. “Why, sweetie, had I known that mocking your dick would spur you on so much I would have done it a body ago.”

He deflates with an embarrassed grunt. “I bloody hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.” she sing-songs happily, passing a hand through his beautifully soft hair. “Now show me your wonders, my majestic husb-“ He cuts her off with a searing kiss, so intense it’s like he’s trying to prove his tenth self wrong. 

River mentally thanks him for being such an idiot. 


End file.
